


Cartographers

by fartherfaster



Series: Botanical Diaries [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Consensual Kink, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9092902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fartherfaster/pseuds/fartherfaster
Summary: “Maps codify the miracle of existence.” - Nicholas CraneSo here we are, all skinpaper and inktears. By some miracle, let us exist as one.-Steve ties the silk over her eyes, and Darcy immediately feels everything that much more intensely. Her heart hammers in her chest. Steve’s hands begin to wander.“Christ, Darcy, what you do to me.”-Steve and Darcy try some new things.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevenfoxes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenfoxes/gifts).



> Almost two years ago I wrote _Venus Envy_ , and I promised everyone and Foxes especially that there was a sexy coda in the works.
> 
> I wasn't lying.

Cartographers

“Maps codify the miracle of existence.” - Nicholas Crane

So here we are, all skinpaper and inktears. By some miracle, let us exist as one.

* * *

 

“Augh,” Darcy pronounces, leaning back against the locked front door. She tips her head back and closes her eyes, letting out a long breath. “What a fucking night,” she complains. She blinks her eyes open when she’s met with an unexpected silence.

“Ste-” her breath catches.

Steve is standing just out of her reach, his chest rising as he breathes deeply. In a dark silhouette, Darcy can’t make out his features. His hands clench at his sides and his breath ratchets up further. He takes two steps towards her and Darcy’s heart kicks into panic. She has no idea what could possibly be going through his mind - they were laughing in the car, for Christ’s sake - and now he’s vibrating with restraint and he’s _huge_ , looming in front of her. She steels her voice, making it sound much more sure than she feels.

“Steve.”

He drops to his knees gracelessly, one hand reaching out to touch her. His warm palm skates up her thigh, tracing the long slit of her skirt. Light filters over his features. The shock of panic coiling in Darcy’s belly melts; she feels a slick, hot rush of arousal shiver through her. He looks up at her guilelessly, pupils blown.

“Darce,” he whispers, crawling forward on his knees until his shoulder presses into her body. His hand slides up to the very top of the skirt’s slit and his fingers and thumb push under it, shoving the fabric up her hip another inch and exposing more soft skin. Steve turns his cheek and presses his open mouth against her. Then he straightens up, dragging his nose across her thigh until he can press his face into the silk covering her belly.

Darcy laces her fingers through his hair and focuses on breathing. “Oh my God,” she chastises him, “you scared me for a second, there.” She twists her fingers, tight and hard, near his scalp. Steve hisses, leaning into it. He presses the bulk of his weight more insistently against her body. She pets her other hand over his shoulders, the fine grain of the wool of his suit, lightly dragging her nails over the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“Sorry, baby,” he says, dropping his hand down to the back of her knee and slowly pulling it upward until Darcy catches on and props it over his shoulder. Her shoulders press flat against the door for balance. His hand skids up the back of her thigh and he palms her ass under her skirt. Steve tilts his head way back to look at her face. His left hand brackets her hip over the silk, fingers tracing the delicate beading. “You’re just killin’ me in this dress,” he whispers. “I can’t even tell you.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and Steve rubs the stubble of his cheek over her soft skin, looking up at her through his lashes. Darcy’s breath catches and then comes back in a quick panting staccato. “If you can’t tell me, then show me,” she says.

Steve groans low in his chest and his hips flex forward looking for relief. He licks a line up her exposed thigh and sets his teeth on edge against her skin, nibbling up to the dark warmth hidden beneath her panties. Darcy whimpers loudly, and he draws back curiously. Her hand grips at the back of his neck. He twists away from her grip and she whines in disappointment. Her head is tilted back against the door and he can only see the column of her throat, deep shadows cast by her clavicles. When he doesn’t touch her, Darcy lolls her head forward, her expression puzzled.

Steve licks his lips, watching as Darcy stares. He bites his own lip slowly, letting it snag and pull between his teeth, and Darcy shivers, her tongue touching the corner of her pretty, slack mouth. He runs his tongue over his teeth, renews his grip on her ass, and asks, “Do you like that, baby?” He pulls her hand from his hair and sucks her first finger into his mouth, her knuckle bumping under the ridge of his palate as he drags his teeth along her skin. Darcy lets out a small, shivery moan, and Steve pops off her finger with a wet sound. Then he laves little kisses on each of her fingertips, coming back to swirl his tongue around the pad of her thumb before holding it lightly between his teeth. Her hips twitch reflexively, almost bumping his chin, and Steve leans further back to maintain the distance. He pulls her thumb from his mouth. “Do you want that?” he asks.

“ _Steve_ ,” she whines, trying to turn his face back to her thigh, her fingers tight in his hair. A blush has started to burn across her cheeks, and Steve pinches the crease where her ass meets her thigh in a gentle reprimand.

“No,” he tells her, “say it.” He leans further back, resting on his heels. He is too strong and too far away for her to pull him forward, her own balance precarious.

Darcy folds her face into her bare shoulder, her hair cascading over her chest. The waves sift and shiver as she breathes. Like this, the glittering nude silk lends itself to the imagining of bare, wet skin, and he feels arousal coil around the base of his spine, hot and needy.

“Please,” she asks. Steve notices that her fingers are trembling on his shoulder, so he presses closed-mouth kisses to her skin, rubs his palm soothingly up and down the length of her thigh.

“If you want it, you’re gonna have to say it, honey,” he encourages her.

She takes a steadying breath. “Steve,” she says quietly. “Steve, please,” she shivers, whispering the words, “I want you to bite me.”

Steve feels his gut lurch and then melt. The hot claws of arousal climb his spine. In that moment he feels beholden to her, stretched out above him in bejewelled, pale silk, like she is both his call and answer. He _wants_ so desperately, feeling constrained and stifled inside his suit. Like the embers beneath a flame, it is dwarfed by how much he wants to please Darcy first. He opens his mouth, sets his teeth, and when she whines, high and thin, he bites.

He only holds it for a moment and then backs away, laving his tongue over the marks his teeth have left behind, sucking kisses to them, pulling up the blood beneath her skin to make it bloom red. Darcy’s rushed breath has evened into a peaceful rhythm of satisfaction. He brings his hand to the front of her thigh and shoves her dress up a little higher. He flips the skirt back with his other hand, draping it open over his wrist as he grips her standing leg. Steve ducks down, nosing at her until Darcy turns her knee out, and then he places a matching bite high up on the inside of her thigh, a sister to the first. He sets his teeth and sucks until Darcy’s moan turns sharp and she tugs at his hair. Her hips rock in a needy staccato; the musky scent of her arousal is thick in Steve’s nose. He presses in closely, opens his mouth, and breathes wetly over her mons. Darcy’s knee buckles and her hands dig at his shoulders.

“Oh, Steve, please,” she whines.

His hand follows the cleft of her ass until he can cup her vulva in his palm. Darcy arches and shifts, looking for contact. Steve gently drags his thumb up between her labia, bringing it back down into her wetness without touching her clit. Darcy groans.

“Oh, _fuck._ ”

“Soon,” he teases, dipping his thumb into where her slick pools, smoothing it over her skin before finally, finally dragging the pad of his thumb over her clit. Darcy jumps at the contact. Keeping pressure on his thumb, he touches her with his middle and ring fingers, teasing her with just the tip of one, and then the other. Darcy lolls her head back against the door, one of her hands fisting the shoulder of his jacket, her other palm petting his hair. Steve curls his fingers together and slowly pushes into her, a sweet, curling motion that has Darcy shivering against him. He only pushes as deep as his second knuckle before starting a gentle give-and-take thrust. Darcy rocks to meet him, content but still wanting; Steve knows this isn’t enough for her, but there’s nothing he likes better than watching her slowly come undone. Gradually, he builds more pressure behind his fingers until his palm is flush with her skin. Steve gently grinds the heel of his hand against her clit, and Darcy’s panting breath breaks on a long, low moan. She flexes the knee over his shoulder, and the sharp heel of her shoe digs into his back. Steve crowds closer to her body and sinks his teeth once again into her thigh, inches away from where the first has already started to bloom purple. With no warning, Steve pulls back his hand before adding a third finger, renewing with vigour the curl and thrust, his palm in constant friction with Darcy’s clit. She gasps and clutches at him.

“Oh,” she sighs, “oh please, oh, Steve.” Her hips jump with his motions.

“Tell me, baby,” he whispers against her skin, his words like dewy kisses.

Darcy keens and sucks in a breath before she can find her voice. “Please,” she breathes, her head lolling to the side to watch, “I wanna come.”

Steve watches her, noticing how the flush has moved into her cheeks, and think for Darcy he would take to painting again, just to match all her shades of pink. “I love it when you beg me,” he tells her, voice low. “I love how wrecked,” he pauses as he curls his fingers inside her more tightly, pressing up against her g-spot, “you sound.” Darcy whimpers, her thighs beginning to shake. “Not yet,” Steve warns her.

Darcy throws her head back and moans. Steve pushes his little inside to join its brothers, lining his thumb up to press against her clit, tracing over its retracted hood. “Good girl. You wait now.”

Her every breath a moan, Darcy picks up a litany. “Oh, Steve please. Baby, I wanna, please.” She gasps for air. “Oh, God.”

“Good girl,” Steve tells her.

Darcy’s knee buckles.

“Hold on, honey,” he warns. “You breathe for me, that’s right.”

The heat between her legs grows unbearable, the sensation spooling out without her bidding. It vines around inside her pelvis, crawling up her spine and leaves her limbs feeling heavy and tingling, but still Darcy clings to control, having promised to wait.

“Please,” she begs, “Steve, I can’t-”

“You can,” he says, curling his fingers just right, “you can come, honey.”

Darcy’s whole body shakes with the force of it, her vision whites out; she dimly feels the hot, wet rush, instead mostly caught up with the divine lightness that washes over her.

Steve slowly pulls his hand away, and Darcy whines for the loss. Her legs shake, and as he lets down the one from its place over his shoulder, Darcy slumps down the door to settle in a heap in his lap. Steve pushes her hair out of her eyes, pressing kisses over her cheeks, eyes, and lips.

“Okay, honey?”

Darcy nods, humming softly. She pats his chest. “Your shirt’s all wet.”

“Worth it,” Steve says. Darcy giggles at the noticeable pride in his voice. After a moment, Steve leans back. “Come on,” he says. “Bedroom.”

“Nuh,” Darcy protests from the floor. “Can’t walk.”

“Easy to fix,” Steve says mostly to himself, scooping her up in a bridal carry. As he makes his way through the apartment, Steve speaks lowly into her ear. “I wanna try somethin’, honey.”

Darcy nods, listening.

 

“First things first,” he says, “I want you outta that dress.” Steve puts Darcy down on her feet and lays one hand against the back of her neck. Darcy arches against him, the sweet curve of her ass pressing up against Steve’s straining erection beneath his fine wool slacks. Steve groans and he fights the urge to grab her, hands flexing in thin air.

“A little help?”

Steve uses his thumb and index finger to pull the long, discreet zip at the back of Darcy’s dress. Then he steps away from her.

Darcy turns to look at him, her arms crossed over her chest and her hands on opposite shoulders, holding the front of her dress up. She raises her chin in a challenge. “What do you want?” she asks.

Steve loosens his tie and collar before putting his hands in his pants pockets. He’s smirking. “I wanna watch.”

Darcy smiles, sighing. “You want a show?” She tilts her head back and relaxes her arms enough that the top of the dress begins to fall.

“I do,” says Steve. “And then you’re gonna get on that bed,” his voice, deep and honeyed, makes Darcy’s knees weak, “and do exactly as I tell you.”

“Will I?” she challenges him, letting the fabric slip all the way to her waist. Her breasts swing gently free, and Darcy turns around slowly. She pinches at her nipples, her back to Steve. The thrill has her squeezing her thighs together.

“You will,” Steve says, suddenly at her ear. His massive hands replace hers, tugging gently. Darcy moans.

“And if, oh,” Darcy sighs. “I don’t?” She grinds her ass up against him again.

Steve catches both of Darcy’s wrists in one hand and raises them over her head, squeezing only enough to translate his thoughts. His other hand drags up her chest to her throat, and he angles her chin to bring her gaze to his. “There’ll be consequences.”

Darcy wiggles out of his arms and keeps shimmying her ass until the dress falls in heap at her feet. She’s wearing a garter and thigh-highs, but no panties. Steve palms himself through his slacks. Darcy widens her stance and lets her hips sway, flashing to Steve a glimpse of her sweet pink sex. She pushes her hands into her hair, letting it fall in waves around her shoulders before turning back around to face him. “Then I can’t make a promise one way or another.”

“Bed,” says Steve sharply, ignoring her taunt.

Darcy steps backwards until the backs of her thighs bump into the mattress. She sits primly for a moment before lasciviously opening and then crossing her legs. Her fingers play with one of her garter straps, but she makes no move to unbuckle it.

Steve growls, and Darcy grins.

“Point,” she teases.

Steve rushes into her space and Darcy’s breath catches. He snags her by the waist and tosses her backwards into the pillows. She goes with a shriek of laughter. Steve repeats his request. “I wanna watch.”

Darcy strokes her sides and belly, petting herself and finally bringing her hands up to her breasts. Steve stands at the foot of the bed, pupils blown black. “Watch like this,” Darcy asks, before pressing two fingers into her slack mouth and then dragging the wet across her pink, swollen vulva. “Or watch like this?”

Steve leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her breasts and massaging his thumbs into the blooming blue-purple forget-me-nots he sucked into her thighs. Darcy squirms, moaning and arching into the contact.

“Wanna watch you get all worked up,” Steve whispers against her skin. His fingers trace the places where his promises linger. “Put your fingers inside,” he orders her.

Darcy’s hands slide to the dewy apex of her thighs. She curls first one and then two fingers inside of herself, and the drags the wet around her clitoris. The fingers of her other hand take over then, lightly pinching and rubbing. She works herself to panting and shivering. Darcy draws a long breath.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” she asks.

“Lookin’ at you.” Steve leans in close again. “Don’t you dare come.”

Darcy groans and throws her head back into the pillows. Her back arches up from the bed and she works more insistently at her clit. “Please,” she begs. She knows he likes it.

“No.”

Darcy opens her eyes.

Steve has undone his tie completely and holds it in one hand. Darcy’s hands stop.

“Hold on to the headboard,” he tells her. “Don’t let go.”

Darcy licks her lips.

Steve kneels up on the bed, straddling her open thighs. He’s still wearing his shoes. “I’m gonna put this over your eyes,” he asks her, “okay?”

Darcy nods, closing her eyes.

“I gotta hear it, baby.”

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, do it.”

Steve ties the silk over her eyes, and Darcy immediately feels everything that much more intensely. Her heart hammers in her chest. Steve’s hands begin to wander.

“Christ, Darcy, what you do to me.”

She smiles, biting her lip. Steve turns it into a gasp, pinching her nipples and palming her breasts. He replaces his hands with his mouth, his hands squeezing and petting her waist. “I love it,” he says against her skin, “I love you.”

Darcy nearly loses her grip on the headboard.

“Oh,” Steve says, “careful.” He swats the tender inside of her thigh. Darcy jumps.

“Steve!”

“What, honey?” he asks. “It’s too much, you tell me, you promise?”

“Promise.”

Steve soothes his hand over the blooming pink mark. “Good girl.” He slowly works further up her thigh until the very tip of one finger is pressed against her wetness. “You think you’re ready?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she sighs, her hips searching for contact, “yeah, I want you.”

Without being able to see, the sound of Steve undoing the fly of his slacks sounds impossibly clear. He lifts her thighs, pressing them back against the mattress so her back curls. Darcy, beyond her own expectations, can feel herself blush, knowing how exposed she is, thinking of what she must look like. Steve can read her veiled expression.

“You’re perfect,” he says. “I love you.”

“You too,” Darcy whispers. She can’t help wiggling in anticipation. “Please,” she begs again. She’s been waiting to come for ages now and feels ready to climb outside of her skin.

Steve pushes in, long and slow. Darcy can’t hold in her gasping moan, her voice high and thin. She can feel the fabric of his suit, the silk of his shirt. Her imagination reels with what they must look like together and she bucks against his thrusts, the arousal too much to bear.

“Steve,” she begs, voice wrecked. “Steve, please touch me.”

He squeezes her waist. “I am,” he says through gritted teeth. “Or d’ya want somethin’ else?”

“My clit,” she pants. “Please, touch my clit. I wanna come.”

“Not yet, baby,” he tells her. Darcy almost screams with frustration. “You can make it.”

“Fuck,” Darcy swears, “ _ please _ .”

Steve groans. His mouth begins to run, the words coming unbidden. “God, what you do to me. I wish you could see what I see, babe. You’re so beautiful.” For a moment, the room is full of the heady, wet sounds of their bodies moving together. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

“Steve,” Darcy’s mouth is slack. “I wanna feel you come inside me.”

Steve growls and redoubles his efforts. Darcy braces her arms to keep from shifting up the bed, but it does little. Steve instead grabs her hips in a bruising grip, slamming into her. Darcy shakes, so oversensitive and wired.

“I need,” she begs, “please!”

“Yeah baby,” Steve says, leaning in close. Sweat beads at his brow. “Gonna come. Wanna feel you.”

Darcy lets out a long moan, her whole body twisting and flexing. Her mind clears into a perfect empty whiteness and she goes nova from head to toes.

-

When she comes back to herself, Steve is massaging her hands. Darcy finds she’s cut crescents into her palms from squeezing her fists so tightly. She can feel the beginning of the bruises on her thighs and hips, but everything is a comfortable and sated kind of sore.

“Hi,” she purrs, curling into Steve’s side. He’s still dressed, but has flopped out beside Darcy. 

“Okay?”

“More than okay,” she tells him. “You said the l-word.”

“Yeah,” Steve mulls, absently stroking Darcy’s side. “I meant it. I mean it.”

A moment of silence lapses.

“Okay?” Steve asks again. 

Darcy leans up to a press a soft, chaste kiss to his mouth. “More than okay,” she says.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
